A bad day
by JosieStyle
Summary: Face has a bad case of food poisoning. Fortunately, he was in good hands. Just a story to break the day. Keep on smiling and read this puppy, please!


"Ulg ... This is so humiliating ..." moaned Face with a hoarse voice.

His well-built body hung limp forward. His shoulders were shivering violently. The normally perfect blonde locks were silky wet from the sweat and stuck flat onto his skull. And the always beautiful face of his had disappeared into the toilet bowl. One arm was folded under his sweaty forehead while the other arm repeatedly rubbed back and forth onto his stomach to appease the angry gurgling sounds.

It had been a beautiful day and everything went fine, _though the end, that is._ _It was a difficult case they completed. And they all were a little tired_. Yes… Fine…

Until they decided to go grab a bite in a dingy looking road-restaurant. It was nobody's fault that it had turned out bad for him. But for some reason he blamed it on his best friend Murdock.

...

Because of him they had to stop for lunch, since the pilot didn't stop whining otherwise. Okay. It had been a tough day and the pilot was right that they could use something to regain their spilled energy. But the village where they stayed over was only a few miles away when the pilot proceeded in such an annoying way that BA couldn't stand it anymore and brought his Van to a halt at some road-diner. An old couple with their weird looking cook, with curly black long hair on his fingers, owned the place and they, Hannibal, BA, Murdock and Face, were apparently the only customer that day. Hannibal had suggested them to eat quickly and go back to the motel to figure out what their next plan was, and to discuss their new location and possibly a new case. All men agreed. This place wasn't that cozy, after all. The elderly lady of the old couple came to their table shortly after they had arrived and Hannibal had ordered the daily special which consisted of fried potatoes with some raw vegetables and chicken, BA and Face chose a simple burger. Murdock, who seemed to lost his appetite immediately after seeing the hairy fingers of the cook, ordered a marshy fruit salad with coconut flakes, straight from the sealed package. Although there was nothing wrong with the food but the cook regularly walked past them with a finger in his nose and nonchalantly coughed a few times onto the plate where BA's hamburger laid on. Hannibal actually had to keep the big guy from punching the cook. But when the cook left their table BA had said that he wanted to make a nice print onto the man's forehead with one of his golden rings. After that they leaved the restaurant quickly.

On the way back to the motel Face already started to notice that something wasn't right. He wasn't feeling good. Damn! He was getting nauseous. His stomach started to make him feel even sicker when the road was getting bumpier. As he silently looked through the front window he fought the urge to crawl into the corner of the Van and curl up like a ball. At the same time Murdock started to complain, again, about the fact that BA didn't participate with "20 questions". It only was a joke to annoy the big guy en Hannibal always loved this part. Face too. But this time he really… really liked some silence. There was some chatter. And bickering and cursing until suddenly there was no sound anymore. As soon as Face thought that his wish was granted, he was getting sicker. And that was the moment that Face's stomach made a loud rolling sound.

Shortly after that, everyone knew that Face was getting sick.

...

And that's how he ended up onto the bathroom floor. On his knees, like a dog, in front of the toilet. Humiliated by his own body. Sick and sweaty. With Murdock along his side.

"I think it's the ham," suggested Murdock concerned, after a long silence. He tightened his grip onto the blond man when he threatened to fall forward during his second vomit attack. Face convulsively squatted forward again and clutched the porcelain bowl with both hands with so much force that the knuckles on his hands were turning white.

"... Oh God ..." whimpered the blond man and bowed his shivering back even further forward until his face had disappeared into the pot again. Murdock stroked his friend's back with concern. Puking noises echoed in the pot. And it didn't stop for one whole minute.

Hannibal leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom and frowned worried while he fumbled with his cigar. It took some time before Face had managed to sit up straight, again. He was puffing out his air from total exhaustion. Even a blind man could tell he was feeling miserable.

"Yup. Definitely the ham," muttered the pilot with a slanted smile when he could smell the sour flavor coming from the toilet. With an outstretched hand Murdock pressed on the flush button without letting go of the Lieutenant's shoulder.

"Yes ... and in the reverse it even tastes worse, if I may express myself like that," answered the lieutenant with a low moan. With one hand he wiped the sweat from his brow and his teammates saw how it trembled.

Hannibal frowned again.

"Sorry, kid. If I had known that the ham was rotten, I'd offered you my daily special." The blond man nodded. He was just about to put himself in a more relaxed position when his stomach announced another breakdown with an audible roll. With a low groan Face curled himself up and blindly tried to find his way back to the hole of the pot. Murdock guided him with one hand and took a deep breath His big brown eyes were on his General.

"And what about that big guy? He had eaten the same as I did," asked Face. His voice was slightly brighter after he had taken a few small sips from a glass of water that Hannibal had offered. Just like then BA decided to storm in to the motel room, after he had put the large paper bag full of groceries on the kitchen table He immediately went straight to the Colonel.

"Hey, Hannibal. How's Face?" he asked. And Hannibal just shrugged.

"Apart from that greenish color on his face, I have no idea." BA frowned and thought about it for a moment while he popped his head around the corner of the bathroom. Hannibal stepped back because the door jamb was not big enough for the two of them.

"Hey, Faceman. You okay? I've brought you something. For your stomach, man."

"Thanks, big guy. How do you feel anyway? You've eaten the same burger as I did."

At that, BA shrugged his big muscular shoulders.

"I feel fine. Just lucky, I guess. Or maybe it's because all that milk. It makes you strong." With a clenched fist to prove his point, Face nodded weakly. His sweaty cheeks were turning paler and Murdock felt his best friend fall backwards in his arms. His full weight was now supported by his arms. Face was irresolute at the moment and just waited what would happen next. Eventually, his hands finally let loose of the porcelain toilet bowl and closed his tired eyes as his head slowly felt back onto Murdock's shoulder.

It remained quiet for a while. Face was so weak and shaky from his actions that he was no longer able to stay awake. He hasn't even realized that Murdock pooled him in a protective hug while looking at BA. He signaled the man that it was time for him to drag the Faceman out of here. BA nodded and walked back to the living room to pool the blankets back for him. Hannibal walked in to the bathroom with a bottle of warm water. He pushed it softly against Face's flat stomach while he gently shook the younger man with his free hand.

"If you think you're done here we will help you in to your bed, kid." His palm pressed briefly onto the man's forehead. The Lieutenant surely was hot and clammy. But that was to be expected after all the work he had done here.

The young man looked at the white-haired man with red watery eyes and nodded softly.

"Yes. Thank you, Hannibal. I think I am done puking now." And Murdock nodded satisfied. It took two men to hoist the weakened blond man on his legs and they helped him out of the bathroom. Murdock felt the heat coming from Face's body. He practically steamed like a heater. Beyond that, his whole white overcoat was soaking wet and even for a crazy man, like Murdock himself, that was impressive.

When they were out of the bathroom Murdock felt how Face began to sway on his legs. Out precaution, the pilot strengthened his grip on him and worriedly glanced at the side profile of his friend.

"Everything okay, Facey?"

And of course that was a stupid question. Face gave him a cold glance and shortly after that his stomach gave yet another roll. Retching confusingly he pooled himself free from the grip of his worried teammates and ran back to the bathroom, again. There he fell back on his knees and let it all go. But this time it stayed with dry retching. Face was so weak and miserable that his whole boneless body was leaning against the toilet bowl. At each retch he threw his body forward and despite his stomach was already emptied, he couldn't stop the reflex. And it wore him out, completely.

This time it was Hannibal who knelt beside him. The pilot and BA looked anxiously at the sick man, from the doorway.

"Face. You okay?" asked Hannibal. He picked up the warm bottle that he made for him, earlier and pushed him back against his rolling stomach. "Keep this there, please. It eases the spasm." His free hand stroked the younger man's back.

"S-stop asking i-if I'm okay. And... l-leave me alone ..." gasped Face with a broken voice. His eyes were teary from exhaustion. But his shaking hand clutched the bottle with all his strength. Pleading for some relief.

Hannibal's eyes met those of BA. And the big man nodded. Without even saying anything BA walked in the bathroom and took one boneless arm from Face. In slow motion, he lifted the sick man from the ground and pulled him away from the toilet. Even when Face couldn't do a thing anymore he groaned "_no_". But BA didn't stop on his account. Murdock was already gone to the bedside and waited for them while he clutched the blanket with a worried look.

A sobbing and very sleepy Face buried his face into BA's red shirt, while the big guy carried him to his bed. The normally strong and well-dressed conman hung his arm around the man's neck, seeking for protection, like a sick child. With one arm he held the water bottle convulsively against his upset stomach. It made BA grin a little. His black eyes watched the sleepy man fondly while he and Hannibal had taken of his soaked overcoat, shoes and socks, to make him more comfortable. And when his head had hit the pillow, the blond man was long gone. He already had sunken into a restless sleep. Silently Murdock dropped the blanket over his best friend and tucked it carefully around his tossing body while he heard the others discuss softly what they should do with Face if it got worse. Eventually they had decided that Face was better of right here and that he will be fine after a good night sleep. But when it got worse, they will go to the nearest doctor. But they just hoped it wasn't necessary.

...

In the evening Face startled awake by a horrible feeling in his gut. From his seated position he peered through the motel room and saw that Hannibal and BA were gone. Murdock was slumped down on the couch affront of the television. His eyes were closed. It was obvious that he had fallen asleep and that was probably for the best. The skinny pilot already had seen enough of him this afternoon. And what he had to do, right now, was not exactly shameless, either. With as little noise as possible he pulled the blanket from his clammy body and swung his bare feet over the edge of the bed. Only this movement had already made him feel nauseous and dizzy again. He tried to stiff a moan of discomfort. With a shuddering sigh he rubbed over his bubbling abdomen. He'd better step on it, while the others aren't there. Moreover, he feared that it could no longer wait. So he got up from his bed and rushed to the bathroom. His body swayed a little in the process. When he closed the door, he heard his name calling by the pilot and Face swore to himself.

"It's okay, Captain. Now… leave me alone," moaned Face. He was startled from his unrecognizable broken voice.

When he was finished and opened the door with shaky hands, Murdock stood in the doorway with a glass of water and a box of pills. His big brown eyes stared at him.

"I was been instructed to give you these pills when you woke up. They are for nausea. And I was kinda hoping that they actually weren't needed, anymore." He smiled at him.

And Face just nodded to his best friend. And before Face knew there was a same kinda smile on his own pale lips. It was hard to blame the pilot for something he really didn't do. He was as innocent as a child. He even felt bad for blaming the guy, even when he didn't really had shown it. Or said it out loud. Or even meant it. He just had to blame someone or something at that time. But now, everything was good.

"Look at that. Gee. Thank you, Murdock. What would I do without you?" He took the pills thankfully and drank some water to flush them down. After this was done he felt himself shiver of fatigue again, and immediately a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Come. Let's get you back to bed." The few footsteps from the bathroom to his bed were surprisingly difficult. It took him all of his remaining energy and Face didn't understand why he hadn't this problem when he ran thru the bathroom. _Probably because 'it' couldn't wait at that time_. With that thought his cheeks colored slightly pink. _Not really something to be proud of._

One trembling hand rubbed his belly again. Finally he felt some relief. The cramps had subsided a little. But he felt weak and shaky. Even his smile faded away by the last two steps.

"Come on. In you go," said Murdock with a light voice, while he was holding the blankets. Face blinked at him. He was so death tired. He even wasn't sure he could climb into the bed without help.

When he finally arrived at the bedside, he let himself fall back on the mattress and sighed relieved without knowing that Murdock firmly dropped his blanket around him, immediately. Normally he would not have accepted it. But when he felt the warmth of the blanket Face gaze went up to the recognizable big brown eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Facey. Tomorrow you'll be back to health. I promise." The pilot gave him a tender smile and he disappeared from his view.

Face enjoyed the silent. And it seemed as if his body finally could relax a bit. With a deep sigh, he let his head sink deeper into his pillow and stared calmly at the ceiling. After a long time he heard Murdock dropping himself onto the couch again and Face smiled sleepily.

"You're a good friend, Murdock," he mused aloud and a little drunk of sleep. Before he realized what he just had said his eyes closed and he welcomed the pleasant darkness with open arms.

Murdock looked at the sleeping figure in the bed and grinned to himself.

"I heard that, brother." He stared back at the screen until his own eyelids grew heavier.

"Good night ..." whispered the pilot soft and almost to himself. With one hand he scribbled fondly behind the ears of his little hairy dog that already had taken his place on his lap, again.

"And that goes for you, Billy." When the dog nose clogged deeper under his brown paws, Murdoch let his hand rest on his cervix. And so the three members of the A team slept while the rest also arrived shortly, after an evening pooling at the bar.

...

End

...

**AN: For the record. I am Dutch and not so well know with the grammaticism of English. Was it good? Let me know, alright? And also: Billy is invisible. It doesn't mean he isn't there!**

**X **

**Josie**


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